Airport
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "He's a handsome man, slouched across two chairs, a playful grin on his lips and an air of confidence about him..." The first continuation of 'What if we'd met someplace else' but you needn't read that to get this. Tiva, AU. K plus for whatever crops up. Now complete.
1. I: Airport

**Hey everyone! Here's the first of the ~continued~ installments of **_**'What if we'd met someplace else?'**_**.  
><strong>

**So **_**Airport**_** was the winner, once I combined all the votes I got. I also have the next two, but I'll keep you in suspense so as not to ruin the surprise. :3**

**Basically, I need to work out what direction I'm going with this (is Ari still around, is Kate dead, what season is it set in, etc.) but I wanted to upload this before you all got tired of waiting. There will be a bit of a delay still, but don't worry.  
><strong>**And I also want to thank everyone who voted and let you know I'm always thankful for your support. **

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you have an anniversary of first loving it. (Today, btw.)**

**Listening to: Magic Dance by David Bowie.**

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><p>She falls into a red chair, backed against a wall, and her head lulls itself into her hands out of exhaustion.<br>"Tired, huh?" she hears someone say, and she looks up to see who spoke. It was a masculine voice, which rules out the woman with a child on her lap, that's situated on her right. It was also a voice that sounded as if it had a few decades behind it, so she dismissed the spot-ridden teenager, immersed in a book, that sat on her far left. The voice also had a joking-yet-intrigued tone to it, so the bored man two seats along, looking at the floor, is not an option either. On second thought, definitely not him since he's asleep. And then she sees him; the owner of those words. He's a handsome man, slouched across two chairs, a playful grin on his lips and an air of confidence about him. His eyes are focused solely on her, so she can see the emerald color of his irises, every time he blinks.

She raises an eyebrow at him in question, but he just shrugs as a response. Normally, she would go to him and tell him to mind his own business. But, maybe because he's cute or something like that, she decides to humor him.

"Yes. I am tired." she says wearily, and wipes the sleep away from her eyes with her index finger, to add to the effect. Though, truth be told, she's shattered.  
>"Sorry 'bout that. I'm Tony." he replies, grabbing his backpack and waltzing over to her in a smooth movement, then sitting in the chair next to her. Once he lets his bag fall to the floor, he offers her his hand. For some reason completely unknown to her, she takes his hand and shakes it.<br>"Ziva." she replies with a nod, and a smile creeps onto her mouth despite her best efforts to hide it.  
>"Zee-vaahh..." he says, rolling his tongue through his mouth as he tries the word out.<br>"So, Ziva. Tell me, where you from? Where you going?" he continues with the brightest grin she thinks she's ever seen, and the way he snaps the second part of her name makes her echo his wide smile.

She makes the decision to see how clever he is, and dodges his question.  
>"How about you? Where have you come from, where are you going, Tony?" she snaps the last part of his name, too, and she notes the dancing shadow in his eyes as she does so.<br>"Well, I was here on vacation, actually. Headed back to Washington. Though I'm actually Italian." he says with a wink, and although there's no denying he's charming, something in her head points out that he took the bait and answered her question, rather than persisting with his.  
>"But," he speaks once more, trailing out the word, "You danced round my question, Miss Ziva. Where you from, all that jazz."<p>

Something re-ignites inside her and she beams at him because he does have an attention span and genuinely seems both interested in her, and interesting, unlike the men she usually attracts.  
>"Well, I am from Israel, on my way to Washington DC. My flight had to stop here because of something being faulty, so I am being transferred." she responds, her smile never really dimming. He whistles in appreciation, and then a husky 'Wow' escapes his lips. They continue to talk until a nasal woman informs her over the speakers, that it's the final call for her flight. He laughs at the fact that they'd both been so distracted that they hadn't heard the call, and then breaks out into a grin because it's his plane too.<p>

They both rush through doors with their hand luggage, and reach the employees with what she assumes are seconds to spare. Much to her annoyance, she's so late that someone has already taken her supposed seat because of stupidity, but she insists it's fine and that she will sit in an empty chair. But, -call it destiny or luck or karma- the only spare place is next to her new friend, Tony. So she sits next to him for several hours, and she finds the whole experience far better than if she had been sat next to a quiet little person and just read a book the whole time.

They talk and laugh and she finds herself a little upset when they come into land and it hits her that she will probably never see him again. But when they walk off the plane, complaining of aching limbs and tired minds, and the city they've just landed in, he says something that she is able to read between.  
>"I mean, DC's pretty big and all, but I guess I've seen people more than once."<br>And she slows her pace and turns to look at him, a small, slightly surprised smile gracing her features.

They carry on talking as they collect their luggage, and he even offers to hail a cab for her. She regretfully insists she can do it herself, and immediately wishes she had accepted his offer the second the sad smile appears on his face.  
>"I hope I see you around, Tony. It's been nice talking to you." she says, unsure as to why her heart feels so heavy. She narrows her eyes as he rummages around in his pocket for something, and then smiles when he places a card in her hand.<br>"Call me, Ziva." he sees, his eyes shining in the artificial light. She is completely taken aback when he leans in and kisses her, just next to her mouth, but she takes the way her stomach flips as a vaguely good sign. Her arm reaches out and she hears wheels slowing down, without even taking her eyes off the man stood in front of her. And she senses that he probably chats up a lot of girls, but that maybe it's different this time.  
>"Goodbye, Tony. Until we meet again." she tells him with her eyes glistening against her will.<br>"G-Goodbye, Ziva." his voice breaks at first, and he clears his throat before carrying on. She enters the waiting vehicle just as the driver is about to make a run for it, and Tony helps her with her bags. She laughs in a melancholy way before she shuts the door and tells the man in front to wait just a second. Rolling down the window, she leans out and sees her friend shoot her a weak, sad smile before leaning in closer as she beckons him to. She rises up in her seat and kisses his cheek lightly, before sliding the window up and sitting back down properly.

Her voice is shaky as she tells the cab driver her new address, and she wipes a lone tear away with the back of her hand. She's not sure why she's crying, exactly, because she has every intention of calling him. In fact, she decides, she'll add his number to her cell phone. Glancing down at the card he gave her- it's still in her hand- for the first time since she received it; she sees it is a business card, from the place that he works at. Her eyes drink in his name and his phone number (one that she hopes she will come to learn by heart), then notices the name of the agency that he works at. One 'NCIS'. Her heart does a double take, and she pulls her barely-read assignment order papers out of her bag, reading the name of the agency she's been assigned to. NCIS. A laugh of part insanity escapes her lips, and she notes what a Tony DiNozzo (she glances down at the business card again to commit his name to memory) thing it is to not even mention Work in the however-many-hours they had talked.

She cradles the little card in both her hands and absorbs the heap of new information she's just discovered.  
><em>Well, Anthony. It seems we will be meeting a little sooner than I anticipated.<em>

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><p><strong>You don't need to review if you've already read it… (;<br>-Kiera. x**


	2. II: Wait

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the major delay on this, I had to think a lot of things over and so much thinking makes Kiera's brain hurt…  
>Anyways, hope you like the direction I went in with this. It was actually one of many routes I could've gone down, but it was the one I liked most. Hope you do, too.<strong>

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you dress up as Abby for a charity fundraiser, and people think it's your normal clothes…**

**Listening to: Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley**

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><p>He looks up at his partner, sitting across from him, with a small grin on his face.<br>"Emily..." he calls in his trademark annoying voice.

Her head snaps up and she glares at him in a way that is as scary as a sleeping rabbit. Presuming one doesn't find sleeping rabbits scary. Anyways, point is he isn't intimidated. He picks up his ready-rolled paper ball and throws it in her direction, laughing as it hits her square in the face. He chucks another one toward her, and he has a hard time keeping vaguely serious at her dreadful attempt at catching the object mid-flight.

His partner is a geek. You can't deny it. She's no ninja, no badass warrior, just a plain girl who decided to work for the government. She doesn't like her juvenile work partner, and is dreadful at acting as if she does. Fair play to her for trying, though. She's just not... compatible, with him.

She just works all the time. She sits down, and works. They drive to a crime scene, and she works. She goes home, she works. Cold cases. Who does that? Objectifying as it sounds, he might cut her some slack if she was easy on the eyes. But her hair's greasy and always pulled back, her glasses are snapped and actually held together by a band-aid, and the pastel yellow skirt suits make everyone within a five mile radius cringe. And yes, he knows it's about what's on the inside and that appearance doesn't matter, but even the inside doesn't seem too interesting either. Maybe he's just misjudged her, but there is definite, genuine dislike felt on both sides.

So he resorts to this- paper bombs, spit balls, superglue. She's like another McGee, for goodness' sake.

And Gibbs doesn't like her, McGee certainly doesn't, and Abby? Best not to mention her.

Because Emily replaced Kate. And Kate was well-loved. So Emily is constantly referred to as "Kate's replacement."

Today, however, Tony's being annoying for the sake of it. He's not missing Kate- and yes, it does happen. Emily hasn't been complaining about latex gloves or blood or not enough work, so he hasn't been given reason to pester her. He's simply bugged. Itchy.

The paper is a welcome distraction, because he can't stop looking at his phone.

Two days, and she still hasn't called him. Maybe he didn't make his intentions clear enough, or she was happy to put up with him for a plane ride, but now, he's jumpy and grouchy and can't shut up. And if he happens to take it out on his partner? Well, it's her fault.

He's just not sure who the _her _is that he's talking about.

**000000**

She fiddles with the button on her jacket as she sits, the gaudy wallpaper and thick smell of incense not helping the already strong feeling of nausea that is overcoming her. The chair she rests in is cushioned but lumpy, and she constantly shifts and moves to try and get more comfortable.

It doesn't help.

The guard standing at the door is glaring at her again, and she rolls her eyes at the incompetence of the staff. Officer Bashan has still not turned up, despite her appointment being fifteen minutes ago, and the woman babbling into a cell phone whilst sitting at a desk, seems not to have realized that everyone can hear her conversation. Ziva has a sneaking suspicion the blonde is painting her nails, as well. How somebody like _that_ got a job at the Israeli embassy, she'll never know.

She suspects it's her father's doing; the delay and arrogance of this meeting, probably as a punishment for messing up her last mission and losing her protection detail. The huge mistake is the only reason she's in the US.

Not that she minds, of course. Not only is it refreshing to escape the rumors and conflict back at home, with regards to her brother's whereabouts, but Ziva's met some genuinely nice people.

Well, one nice person.

Whom she has yet to call back, because she's too scared.

The receptionist hangs up just before a clicking noise sounds from the door, and Officer Bashan strolls in, paperwork in hand.

"Shalom, Ziva. My apologies for the wait, I got… caught up. "

"I am sure you did. " she retorts, noticing how everyone in the room is focusing on her.

After a brief discussion, she leaves the Embassy, equipped with knowledge and an assignment, and follows her instructions on how to get to the Navy Yard, and the NCIS building. The building, in which she knows a certain Tony DiNozzo could currently be.

**000000**

She pulls out her cell phone as the elevator nears her floor, finally dialing the number she has resisted for two days- a feat much harder than it sounds.

"Hello?" answers a husky voice, and she grins whilst stepping out and searching for him.

"Shalom, Agent DiNozzo." she replies, catching sight of him. He's sitting at a desk, a phone in one hand and a pen in the other. His face falls momentarily as she speaks, and he drops the pen, too, then grins.

"Ziva? Where are you?"

Her voice shakes as she replies "Look up, Tony."

And he does. And she smiles. And it feels amazing.

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Good? Bad? Myeh? <strong>

**Also, don't think it'll be as simple as she'll join the team. For one, I doubt they'd have room, then there's Gibbs, whatever's happened with Ari (oh yeah, I haven't actually thought that bit up yet) and that Emily person…**

**Reviews are always appreciated. Have a biscuit.  
>-Kiera. x<strong>


	3. III: Paperwork

**You have no idea how sorry I am that it's taken this long. First I had no inspiration, then it's Spring Break, then I'm in France. But, this afternoon I was determined to write something. I armed myself with Mountain Dew, Easter candy, and movie scores, and this is the result. I am rather pleased with it, even if I do say so myself. (I mean, it took me an hour to get into the flow of things, but that's not an issue, right?) I hope you all enjoy it!  
><strong>**Thanks for all the reviews and support so far, it all keeps me going.**

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you have decaff coffee and can't help thinking that Gibbs wouldn't approve.**

**Listening to: The Secret Life of Daydreams, by Dario Marianelli, from the **_**Pride and Prejudice (2005**_**) movie score.**

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><p>A ringing cell phone shatters her reverie and she almost thinks she can hear the cracking glass. Tony clears his throat and diverts his gaze, and the moment is ruined entirely.<p>

"Hi." he says, after he's retrieved his phone and shut down the call.

"Hello." she says with a smile she hopes is warm. "How are you?"  
>"Uh... a little stunned. What are you doing here, Ziva?"<p>

His voice is urgent and she suddenly realizes, with a laugh, that he thinks she's just strolled in off the street.

"What's so funny? Zi.. Ziva. Stop laughing!" he tells her, laughing himself by now, albeit a little self-consciously.

Her cheeks ache from laughing, so she tones it down and apologizes to Tony.

"I assure you, Tony, I did not just come here because it is the address on your card, though I did want to see you..." her cheeks burn as she speaks, and she suddenly finds herself staring at the carpet intently, to attempt to forget the suspiciously shy feeling she is experiencing. "I came here, because I have a meeting with Dir-"

"Officer David, with me, if you will." says a curly-haired woman who has just approached them.

"I need to go. I will talk to you later, yes?" Ziva says to the confused-looking man in front of her, before following the woman up a flight of stairs, leaving Tony bewildered and wondering why the hell his friend is going to see Director Shepard.

**000000**

The Director's office is rather nice, Ziva decides. Bottles of alcohol sit in a case on the wall, and framed photographs are strewn throughout the room. There's a plasma TV, a comfy-looking couch, a large desk with an office chair, and a pot plant or two. All in all, rather homely, and rather unlike most Mossad offices.  
>"Please, Ziva, take a seat. Thank you, Cynthia." the Director says, gesturing to a chair. The curly-haired woman- Cynthia, presumably- nods graciously and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.<p>

"How was your flight?"

"It was rather pleasant. However, the plane had a mechanical fault, so I was transferred before arriving here." she answers whilst handing her papers over. The Director nods and begins to sift through them- something Ziva knows is unnecessary. She has worked with Jenny before, so the woman knows everything she need know about her.

"Ouch. And how's your father?"

"He is well, thank you for asking. His work keeps him busy, just as it always has done."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, until the woman her father has so-often mentioned asks a rather odd question.  
>"If I might ask, Ziva, why were you talking to Agent DiNozzo?"<p>

Ziva snaps her head up to find the other woman staring at her intently, and wonders firstly why it matters, and secondly how the Director had noticed. After all, _Cynthia_ had been the one to bring her up.  
>"I often stand and observe my agents, Officer David." Jenny says, in a sharp voice- one that Ziva hasn't heard before-, her eyes narrowing. This is not the Jenny Shepard that Ziva knows. This is Jenny Shepard as <em>Director<em>.

"I... have met Agent DiNozzo before." Ziva answers- if she's to be working here, honesty is probably the best policy.  
>Jenny makes a noise that sounds like a disbelieving 'Hmm', but Ziva says nothing.<p>

After a few minutes more of companionable silence, the Director stands, Ziva mirroring her actions.  
>"You'll get your badge in a week or so; I'll let the Security guys know."<p>

Ziva raises her eyebrows- that's it?

"Welcome to NCIS, Ziva."

A hand is offered, and a hand is shaken. The deal is signed. NCIS has one more employee.  
>So why on Earth can't Ziva get that <em>Hmm<em> out of her head?

**000000**

Tony DiNozzo is confused. And tired. And bored. Though, not necessarily in that order.

Firstly, he meets a girl. She's perfect- pretty, clever, funny- and she seems to like him too. He gives her his number, then starts to feel all weird; it's something he's never felt before.  
>Then, the girl doesn't get in touch. No call, no text, nothing. He waits for what seems like years, but is actually two days, until she finally says <em>Hi <em>(or Shalom, as the case is. It's a cryptic message, to say the least).  
>Suddenly, she's in his office, in front of his desk, laughing at something-or-other. She looks beautiful as she laughs- a thought which is very unusual for him-, but stops eventually, saying various things and looking a little shy.<br>Before he knows it, she's being summoned by the Director and is headed up the stairs. All he can do is watch.

That's confusing, even for someone such as Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

His chair squeaks a little as he rocks on-the-spot, just lightly.  
>His fingers tap on his desk; a repetitive tap-tap-tap that would annoy his partner no end, were she here. He's not sure which partner he means as he thinks that.<br>His eyes narrow a little as yet another person walks past the Director's office, and as yet another minute passes that Ziva doesn't leave it.

Compiling a list of reasons as to why Director Shepard would want to see his friend- acquaintance, actually- leaves him hardly the wiser.

Tony doesn't know what to think of the Director.  
>Number one: she's new- Tom Morrow left just after Kate died, for greener pastures, in the form of Homeland Security-, meaning nobody's really had time to form opinions about her.<br>Number two: she's definitely hiding something when it comes to Gibbs. Or maybe Gibbs is the one hiding things. Either way, something went on in _their_ past.  
>Number three: she seems nice, which isn't strange in itself, but Tony's never known a Director of a Federal Agency to be... nice. Almost as if she hasn't had anything affect her greatly in her life. That, or she's a damn good actress.<br>Finally, number four: she knows the whole of Team Gibbs, including Tony himself. Which means she'll know about his lifestyle; his _relationships. _Add Ziva- someone he's definitely interested in- and this knowledge, and someone, somewhere, is bound to get the wrong impression.

Snapping out of it, he sees the door finally open and Ziva step out, along with the Director, both of them smiling and talking about something. They exchange a kiss on either cheek before Ziva steps down the stairs with a certain bounce in her step, an 'employee' card clipped to her jacket pocket.

Tony DiNozzo is confused.  
>Tony DiNozzo is worried.<br>And Tony DiNozzo is in far, _far_ too deep.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think, I know that last section was a little different to my normal writing style. And yeah, there wasn't that much Tiva, but I still need to lay the foundations of this baby out to you guys.<strong>


	4. IV: Twist

**Another update? :O In less than two weeks? :O It's shocking.  
>Hopefully, this chapter will explain quite a few things. I also included Abby; I couldn't resist. It kind of acts as a filler, because after this, we can get down to the Tiva. Can I get a whoop?<strong>

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you write three pages on Weathering in a geography lesson, and realize you've written 'Weatherly' instead, each time. **

**Listening to: Be still, by The Fray**

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><p>Tony stands, ready to address his friend or colleague or whatever, and ask her what the hell is happening. Because he's dumbfounded and intrigued and rather dazed, and nothing is making sense at this very moment.<br>Ziva slows to a stop right by his desk, a warm smile unfurled on her lips, her arms folding on top of the desk-divider. Then suddenly, he's put at ease- another thing this woman seems to do to him.

"You gonna... explain?" he asks her, determined to not sound as nervous as he somehow feels. She steps closer to the large window right near the bullpen, gesturing for him to follow.

"I tried to tell you earlier. When I was in Israel, I... worked for Mossad." his eyes widen at that, but to her chagrin she continues. "It was dangerous, all the time. Recently- just a few months ago- an incident occurred. Those high up in the agency realized that it could have been averted, had I worked to stop it. I was re-assigned. Since I had worked anti-terrorist operations with Jenny Shepard, NCIS seemed the most obvious choice. I am now a liaison officer."  
>She's smiling shyly, and he would tease her about it and welcome her to the Agency, were he not incredibly shocked right now. And entirely aware that his partner, Emily, has just returned and is currently being extremely un-subtle about eavesdropping.<p>

"Well... welcome to NCIS, Ziva David."

The woman in question grins, taking the hand offered to her and sending a glare in Emily's direction. Tony pretends he didn't feel sparks as their fingers brushed, and pretends he's not secretly pleased Emily might just be getting what's been coming to her for a long, long time.

**000000**

Ziva leaves just moments later, to explore and find the team the Director mentioned, but she still feels distinctly alone. Tony has a job to do and a –frankly horrific- partner whose back he must have, and a team to whom he belongs. And a home.  
>Ziva doesn't have any of these. She will move from team to team, helping interpret things and utilise her vast list of contacts, and advise those inexperienced in their knowledge of Israel and the Middle East. She has no set job; no set partner; no set partner. And no set home.<p>

Giving up on her short-lived quest, she wanders round the building, passing by many doors and quite a few desks. She gets a little lost in a thin, orange-painted corridor (what's with this agency and the colour orange?) and eventually walks down a staircase just to find an exit. Ending up at a laboratory with extremely loud music blaring out of its doors, she discovers an elevator and presses the button, deciding to head up to Tony's floor again. Maybe he'll give her a tour.  
>The elevator still doesn't arrive after a good three minutes, so she pushes the button again, a little more forcefully.<p>

"Oh, that won't come down here. You'll have to take the stairs." a voice says out of nowhere, and Ziva spins round, clutching her lets go of it almost instantly. An eccentric-looking woman is leaning in the doorjamb of the noisy lab, arms folded and looking altogether amused. Looking her up and down, she discovers this unknown person is wearing an outfit dotted with pieces of metal, and models a pair of five-inch platform boots.  
>Ziva's losing her touch if she didn't hear <em>this<em> person move.

"And why won't it move?"she asks with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Gibbs is having a conference with McGee."  
><em>As if that explains anything<em>, Ziva thinks.

"In the elevator?"

"You're new round here, right? I haven't seen you before, anyway. Gibbs always has his conferences in the elevator, more or less. McGee screwed up a little on the last case, by not answering Gibbs' calls at 3am. And 'cause Tony had just got back from his vacation, he couldn't get called in. Gibbs had to work the entire case with... _Emily_. I'm Abby Scuito, by the way. Forensics, in case the sign on the door didn't give it away."

With that, Abby wanders back into her lab, turning the music down a little as she walks. Ziva is sure an answer was in that reply somewhere; she'll just have to search for it. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she moves forward, observing the sign as she passes it. Following the platformed-woman, she asks what she thinks is a decent question.  
>"Who is Gibbs?"<p>

"Geez, you really _are_ new. Gibbs is the boss. Not, like, Director-boss, but he's the leader..." Abby trails off, presumably from the entirely confused look on Ziva's face. "Okay, do you know anyone here?" her voice isn't cruel, more as if she would like to help. Ziva doesn't hesitate as she replies,

"Tony DiNozzo."

"Tony? Wow, he talked to a girl who isn't a complete idiot. That's new." Abby clears her throat, as if to let that piece of knowledge settle in momentarily, before continuing, "Well, Gibbs is Tony's boss. Tony is _in _Team Gibbs."

"Well thank you, I believe I understand now." Ziva replies, blatantly still confused, with a quiet laugh, one that Abby joins in with. "I... should be going now, Abby. I'm Ziva, by the way. Ziva David." she turns and heads for the door, and Abby shouts,

"I like you, Ziva David. See you 'round."

Ziva turns round just in time to see the scientist pick up a large drinking cup, offering a small wave, which Ziva returns just as she leaves the lab. Abby's off-hand comment about Tony stays in her head somewhat, but she dismisses it. And as she walks away, the music turns itself up once more, making Ziva smile slightly. She likes Abby Scuito, too.  
>She takes the stairs, though, wanting to avoid the elevator for as long as possible. She's just arrived at NCIS, and would like to get as much done as she can before coming across this Gibbs man. He certainly sounds scary.<p>

Her stomach is twisting in ways she didn't know it could, for reasons she can't explain, and that's something chilling her to the bone right now. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to understand it- she doesn't have a clue what she should do.

And that's something much scarier than the prospect of _Gibbs_.

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><p><strong>How'm I doing so far?<br>-Kiera. x**


	5. V: Lips

**Sorry about the delay. Again. I'm always apologizing. Anyways, it's a three-day-weekend here, and those apparently mean writing time. :D It also means lots of NCIS on TV, but never mind that.**  
><strong>This chapter definitely has Tiva. Like, <em>definitely<em>. I just hope it's not OOC. I'm rambling. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you watch The Mystery of Natalie Wood and your head almost explodes at the craziness of it. (Michael Weatherly playing Robert Wagner. Robert Wagner plays Tony's dad. Y'know.)**

**Listening to: Elephant Love Medley by Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor, from Moulin Rouge.**

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><p>The weeks blur- one to the next, to the next- as she passes from team to team, not particularly enjoying the work but not disliking it entirely. If she's honest, it's better than Mossad. She's safe, mildly happy, and gets to do things she could never do before.<p>

But it's not thrilling. There's no spark with the people she interacts with; no interest with them. That, and she doesn't see very much of Anthony DiNozzo.

Yes, they pass each other occasionally, exchanging a polite smile or a few words, but she doesn't think it's the same. She's still not sure what the tightness in her chest is each time she lays eyes on him, but she's given up any hope of more than just a friendship between the two of them. The rumours of Tony's _reputation_, as Abby had put it upon their third meeting, and an apparent rule of Gibbs', has seen to that.

So it's with a certain sadness in her that she continues working professionally, and only professionally, with each team she's assigned to. Until, that is, she is placed with a certain _Team Gibbs_.

**000000**

Walking from the elevator, she twists the shiny new badge on her belt with a bizarre nervousness. An uneasy feeling has settled over her this morning, like a sickness washing over her, and she's quite sure why. Gibbs is renowned throughout the agency; she knows this as a fact.  
>She'll also have to deal with Emily- someone she won't find agreeable, according to Agent Bauer, from Nicholson's team, Agent Portland, from McGregor's team, Sheila from HR, Abby, and practically everyone she's worked with so far.<br>Not expecting to enjoy the day that much, she arrives at a familiar desk with an odd sense of déjà vu.

Nobody's seated at their desks yet- a fact she's observed from all but one Agent so far- since it's zero-seven-hundred. Mossad drummed early-rises into her, so she rarely sleeps past 05:00 AM any day. However, a cup of coffee sits on the desk diagonal to Tony's, swirls of steam rising out of the lid, and the computer to her left is buzzing. That leaves Emily and her DiNozzo.

_Her _DiNozzo?

Moving round, she slumps in Tony's chair, putting her feet up on his desk and stretching her hands out, placing them behind her head comfortably, preparing herself for whatever case she'll be working today.

A young man she hasn't seen before turns up around fifteen minutes after she arrives, sitting at the desk with the humming computer and staring at her in confusion. She ignores him for the moment, choosing instead to smile amusedly and stay where she is.  
>A graying man arrives next, sending an off-kilter glare in her direction and picking up the still-steaming cup of coffee. She merely raises her eyebrows in greeting and swings in the chair a little, digging her heels into the desk to keep her balance.<br>Emily turns up next, her hair down and sticking to her cheeks in a way that makes Ziva's nose wrinkle in disgust just upon seeing it. The woman is sporting a coral-coloured skirt suit today, with high heels that will be entirely inappropriate for wearing to a crime scene, and a tiny brown handbag that looks too small to house anything important.

Finally, Tony turns up. His face is priceless, Ziva thinks. Jaw hanging open, eyes wide, arm going slack as his backpack falls to the floor. She sends him a grin, still not moving from her position, and he snaps out of his reverie with obvious shock. Still looking completely stunned, he speaks- probably the most obvious thing he could say.  
>"Ziva...? You're at my desk."<p>

"I know." she replies, winking at him. He's moved by now, standing by her side, so she has to tilt her head to see him properly. She tries not to notice how he looks particularly attractive from this angle.

Someone clears their throat, and the two of them break their gazes to see the graying man looking at them, as if to ask what the hell's going on. This man, she assumes, is Gibbs. Finally moving, she stands and rubs her hands together, moving toward the older man with a polite smile.

"You Ziva, then?" he asks gruffly, narrowing his eyes as he inspects her.

She replies with a curt "Yes.", waiting to see if he'll offer his hand.

He nods; shrugging in half-approval, then outstretches his arm. She shakes his hand, noting how his skin is rough yet comforting underneath hers. It's a refreshing feeling, and she almost feels like she's coming home.  
>She likes Gibbs.<p>

"Miss David will be with us for a while." Gibbs announces after she's let go, addressing his team but not looking at anyone in particular.

When Ziva turns round, she sees the indifferent look on Emily's face, the intrigued but completely welcoming smile from the other man, and the brilliant grin on Tony's face.  
>With this team, there's spark. There's interest. And there's Anthony DiNozzo.<p>

**000000**

They work on a particularly odd case, in Ziva's opinion. But despite the severed toes, Chihuahua tattoos, and the stash of gnome figurines in the victim's house, Tony and the other man- McGee, she's discovered- still argue that this isn't their strangest case. Not really wanting the details, she laughs, says no more on the matter and goes back to questioning the homeowner.  
>She doesn't notice that Emily is shooting daggers at her back.<p>

When the crime scene goes particularly quiet, and she sees everyone reaching for their weapons, she realizes something is most definitely wrong. Hearing footsteps by the door, she moves to hide herself somewhat, and stands next to Tony- by a closet-, pulling her gun out at the same time. A man enters, armed, and immediately heads in their direction. He aims his gun at Tony, and she shoots him in the leg before anything happens. Gibbs thanks her by clapping her on the back, and McGee sends her a grateful smile. Tony puts his arm round her shoulder, giving her a sideways hug that makes her head spin.  
>She doesn't notice that Emily glares at her in jealousy.<p>

She drives back, slightly less recklessly than she would do normally, exchanging jokes with Tony and stories with McGee. When the subject of Tony and herself meeting turns up, she laughs before exaggerating parts of the story, more for his sake than hers, though she certainly doesn't want to share the more... intimate parts of their first encounter. The man in question sends her a look, laced fully with _something_ that manages to make her stomach twist again, and she wonders just what he's trying to say. His eyes are burning darkly; deep green and fiery. She's not sure she's ever seen eyes that convey such emotion before. But she likes it.  
>She reaches over and lays her hand on his cheek briefly, at a point in the story when it seems okay to act so boldly, feeling the heat radiating from his skin to hers.<br>She doesn't notice that Emily shudders in anger.

**000000**

She's in the elevator when it happens. The case is solved, the paperwork done, and she's heading home for the night. Emily's already left- thank goodness-, and Gibbs has disappeared somewhere, so she says a brief goodbye to McGee and Tony before moving away. Tony stands, though, claiming to be finished, and she waits whilst he collects his things.

The first part of the elevator ride is awkward. A scared-looking rookie wedges himself between the two of them, clutching a briefcase and breaking out into a sweat within seconds. When he leaves at the next floor- presumably to escape the tension-thick air and catch the next car in order to head home- Tony lets the doors close before moving and flicking a switch Ziva had never noticed before. The lift shudders to a halt, the lights dimming and bathing everything an eerie blue. He turns to face her, his eyes laden with the same look he had earlier.  
>"Thank you." he says, nodding slightly as he speaks.<p>

"For what?" she asks, presuming it to be a legitimate question.

"Earlier, at the scene. You pretty much saved my life, Zi."

She can't help but smile at the nickname. Nobody's called her that before, but she thinks she wouldn't mind if Tony kept on calling her that for however long he wants to. She smiles before replying.  
>"Any time." She thinks that's the right phrase.<p>

Before she knows what's happening, he's reached out and is cupping her cheek with his hand, fingers gently brushing against her skin. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact, relishing in the feeling of _him_. When her eyelids lift once more, he has moved considerably closer, so much so that she can feel his breath fanning out across her face. A shiver runs down her spine, because she thinks she knows what's going to happen. And she'd rather like it, too.

He tilts his head down, and she leans up, closing her eyes again, in anticipation.  
>Their lips meet so softly, she wonders if she's imagined it. But his arm slides round her waist and pulls her closer, and he kisses her with more force. This is unlike anything she's ever felt. Her knees feel weak and her heart is pounding as he gently pushes her up against the wall. The railing presses into her back, but his fingers do too, imprinting themselves onto her skin through her shirt.<p>

Her senses are filling with his scent; his taste; his touch, and her head spins with the very feel of him. His hand, still on her cheek, moves to her neck, pushing her closer and closer until she feels like they're one. It's not just her, or just him, not anymore. It's the two of them, forming one being.  
>The kiss ends eventually, a mix of a lack of oxygen and also his choice. However, he moves and presses his lips against her neck, with impossible delicateness. Her eyes remain shut as he continues caressing her skin- still so gentle-, but they open once he pulls away.<br>He's looking at her, his eyes filled with _that_ look again, also glinting with a suspiciously watery air, and she so desperately wants to know what he's thinking.

But he says little else, just reaches out and flicks the switch again, and the elevator hums into action again. She kisses him again, twice, savouring everything about the situation. The doors open loudly, and he whispers against her lips before leaving,

"Goodnight, Ziva."

She's left, standing, breathing heavily and staring at his retreating figure, a hand put out keeping the car from ascending again. Running a finger along her lips, still tasting him there, she thinks she knows what that feeling in her chest is. She also thinks she knows what that look in his eyes is. And she knows- just _knows _- they both mean the same thing.

A four-letter-word has never had so much meaning before.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll give you three guesses as to what that word is... ^_^ <strong>**Thoughts?  
>-Kiera. x<strong>


	6. VI: Unrest

**I was lying awake the other night, attempting to get to sleep at about half-midnight, because I had a load of inspiration. Ta-daa, this is it. :D I was also desperate to get this uploaded before the NCIS!Explosion tomorrow. I'm so excited!**  
><strong>Also, I'm so sorry I didn't reply to any reviews from last chapter. They were all so lovely, as well, but the site decided to make a load of my buttons disappear. ):<strong>  
><strong>Enjoy!<strong>

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS, when you get a sentence right in German, because it has the word 'anprobieren' in it, which contains the word 'probie'. :3**

**Listening to: Marchin' On by One Republic**

* * *

><p>As he lies in bed that night, still vaguely able to taste her upon his lips, he tosses and turns in fitful unrest.<br>On one hand, he can't believe what he's done. His actions could ruin absolutely everything between them, and even if they don't, he doesn't want to know what Gibbs will have to say if he finds out.  
>On the other hand, he can't get over how amazing it felt. He swears there was a searing feeling as skin touched skin- unlike anything he's ever felt before. And she kissed him back- <em>she kissed him back. <em>And the way she moved against him and how she kissed him after he'd pulled back and- oh, it's too much.

He clutches a pillow against his stomach, stifling a groan despite the fact that no one would hear it anyway.  
>He might not have known Ziva David for long, but she's worked her way under his skin quicker than anyone he's ever known. And that both scares him- really, it does- and makes him shiver in delight.<p>

He drifts to sleep eventually, being plagued with thoughts until exhaustion wins out, and even as he dozes, he dreams of _her_. And an elevator. And more hidden moments.

.  
>.<p>

She can't sleep. No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop turning and tossing until her sheets are all caught and twisted, and she stands up and sorts them just to give her something to do.  
>His face just won't leave her head. Those glinting, watering eyes, boring into hers with a look so loving yet so filled with... lust, she thinks, that she can't stop seeing them.<p>

And his lips still seem imprinted onto hers. Several times, she's raised a hand and run her fingers over them, as if it'll erase the ghost of a touch. If anything, it just makes it worse.

She's so very glad he kissed her, and she has absolutely no regrets about kissing him back, so-called rule of Gibbs' be damned. Her only worry, therefore- the only thing genuinely keeping her from falling to sleep- is the niggling feeling that maybe, just maybe, _he _regrets it.  
>God, she hopes he doesn't.<p>

Nevertheless, she closes her eyes eventually; her hand fisted into her pillow like it was his shirt, moments ago, and dreams of private moments, cool blue elevators, and soft soft lips upon hers.

It's sweet dreams all round.

**000000**

She arrives at work early the next day, a call from Gibbs summoning her just as she returns from her morning run.  
>Tony's desk is empty- unsurprisingly, she thinks with a fond smile- and so is his partner's, but a tired-looking McGee pokes some keys once in a while, and Gibbs has yet another steaming coffee laying by his computer. For some reason, seeing the routine this team has- and seeing how she sort of fits into their dynamic- makes her feel even more like she's come home.<p>

Unluckily for her, Emily arrives before Tony does, meaning there's no time to talk to him whilst they could have been waiting. Instead, upon his arrival, Gibbs appears and forces them all to the elevator immediately.  
>She tries not to let memories from the day before cloud her vision during the short descent.<p>

After they've collected all their evidence and have been back in the office for about an hour, she finally finds that both she and Tony have a spare moment. Walking to his desk, she sees him meet her eyes a little nervously, so smiles before opening her mouth.  
>"Do you want to grab dinner tonight? If we wrap this case in time?<p>

His voice is low as he half-interrupts her, just loud enough for her and _only_ her to hear, and she finds her skin prickling at the huskiness of his tone. Blushing, she nods a little shyly, opening her mouth to say something once more.  
>"Get this down to Abby."<p>

Gibbs interrupts her this time, and she just sighs before picking the folder off Tony's computer, offering him a small, apologetic smile as she walks away.

She takes the elevator.

.  
>.<p>

Abby's lab pounds out the same kind of music Ziva has discovered it nearly always does, and she walks through the door to find her scientist friend spinning on her lab chair, Caf-Pow! in hand.  
>"Abby! I brought you something." she says loudly, and Abby visibly snaps out of it, twirling to an abrupt halt without spilling a single drop of energy drink.<p>

As the woman stands, Ziva finds herself slightly in awe of the way she shows no signs of dizziness. Abby takes the file being waved through the air steadily, speedily flicking through the contents before sending a satisfied smile in Ziva's direction.  
>"Anything else I can do you for?" she asks brightly, following her words with a loud slurp of drink.<p>

Ziva furrows her eyebrows together in confusion, shaking her head a little.  
>"D'you need anything else?"<p>

"Oh, right. Erm, no thank you, Abby." she replies, not fully listening, eyes focused on a picture of Tony on the wall. She swears, she can't get him out of her head even when she tries.

"You sure?" Abby's voice cuts through her blurred thoughts, sharp and bubbly and maybe too kind to not answer. "Only you look a little... distant."

Internally cursing herself, Ziva lies through her teeth, insisting she's fine, then smiles slightly and heads to the door. She only just stops herself from walking into someone. A man, in a snappy dress shirt, wearing a suit jacket and smiling brilliantly at her.

"... E-excuse me, Tony."  
>Her cheeks have gone bright red, and she quickly squeezes past her friend- <em>more than friend?<em>-, in order to hail the elevator.

The doors are closing just as she hears Tony saying  
>"I need some advice, Abs."<p>

And for some reason, her throat is suddenly very, _very _dry.

.  
>.<p>

Pressing a final button on her keyboard, she saves her report and smiles happily. Another case wrapped. At half eleven.  
>Her smile falters as she realizes it's definitely too late for dinner with Tony <em>now<em>.

As she stands, collecting her things, she sees a figure head to that familiar elevator, and she's not surprised upon entering it, to discover the very man she can't get out of her head.

The doors close, and she turns to face him as he speaks.  
>"I know dinner's out of the question, but are you up for a pizza at my place?"<p>

She hastily agrees, and it's not because she's hungry.

**000000**

His arms are tight around her; his face is buried in her hair.  
>She's not sure how this happened. Most would blame it on over-exhaustion or drunkenness. But she can't- she's been awake for far longer than this before, and they only had one beer each.<p>

No, the reason behind this is far more simple than that.  
>A joke, a laugh, a sobering silence followed by a hushed "Can I kiss you?" that she would never dare refuse.<br>The next thing she knows, there's a trail of clothes leading through to his bedroom and they're both gasping for air.

But that was a few hours ago now, and Tony is currently asleep, snuffling into her head and clutching sleepily at her waist.

She should be happy. This is the most loved; the most cherished she's felt in years. And yet she can't stop thinking of the things she's heard.

A reputation.  
>A disbelieving snort.<br>A "Wow, he talked to a girl who isn't a complete idiot. That's new."

They run round her head more than the way he had sighed her name, or whispered strings of words, or breathed deeply as he kissed her for the fiftieth time.  
>She can only focus on one thing.<p>

It's all wrong.

* * *

><p><strong>Please don't hate me. D: It'll be less angsty next time. Thoughts?<strong>  
><strong>-Kiera. x<strong>


	7. VII: Silence

**Eek. I know many of you hate me after last week's instalment. But, as **_**WriterUnexpected**_** so very well put it, "...It can't be a Tiva story without Tiva." So here we have some Tiva. Yes, it's still rather angsty, but hopefully you'll see it can get better. And I promise you it will. Then, if you don't like this, I've still got another two continuations to do. Just, sometimes, life isn't perfect. And Tony and Ziva certainly aren't.  
>Grovel over. By the way, thanks for the continuing reviews with this, you're all lovely, even if you hate me. I replied to most of last chapter's, I think. Ahem, enjoy.<strong>

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you buy a little toy Vespa, because that's what Tony and Ziva were riding in Paris.**

**Listening to: No Light, No Light, by Florence and the Machine.**

* * *

><p>The bed is cold when he wakes up, something he wishes he hadn't been half-expecting. The sheets are cool and crumpled beneath his palm as he stretches his arm out, but they seem to dissolve beneath his skin like sand and ashes.<br>_She's gone._

He knows he should have waited, and shouldn't have done something as drastic so soon after they met (though, when he thinks about it, it's the longest he's ever waited), but he was kind of tired and he felt content, and he had thought it the most natural thing to do. She didn't agree, obviously. His chest tightens painfully and a lump forms in his throat, but he opens his eyes anyway, knowing that lying in bed will only make the situation worse. The room is far too bright for his liking, and he squints as if blinded. In actual fact, he just doesn't want to look at the room that holds such memories from the night before.  
>He stands, picking up his clothes from their scattered positions on his carpet, attempting to make his mind as blank as possible. But the curtains still hold her scent; the bed her image, and nothing makes him feel any better. So he dresses in silence, anger and remorse filling him up and up and up until he feels he may explodes. Yet he does nothing, just opens the bottle of single malt he keeps only for the most dreadful of occasions, downs a mouthful or two, and heads to work. As he drives, he pretends he can't still feel the ghost of her touch- hands that ran down his back, fingers that clutched at his hair-, because it's easier that way.<p>

Or so he tells himself.

.

She wakes in her apartment, feeling so very empty. Her lips still feel as they did last night- as if his are still pressed against them, searing and burning and rather delightful. But of course, he is not beside her. He is in his own bed, in his own home, and without her. The emptiness only strengthens itself as she realizes the full impact of what she's done.  
>It wasn't wrong, of course it wasn't. It was right, so <em>so <em>right, she just didn't realize it. And she's messed it up.

Her quilt feels icy all of a sudden, and she throws it off her as if it will poison her skin if against it any longer. The cool air hits her but she revels in it- the air should be cold, sheets should be warm. Warm, like his would be. Warm, like his _were_, before she left. Warm, like so many other things that she simply can't bring herself to think of right now. Looking down at herself, she sees her crumpled clothes from yesterday and shudders in half horror, half amazement. Because they may be the clothes she hurriedly put on last night, as she ran from an unfamiliar bedroom, leaving behind a very familiar man, but they are also the clothes that had fallen to the floor last night, along with inhibitions- for a short while, anyway- and any other thoughts apart from _him_. Then, all of a sudden, it hurts too much.  
>She tears at the clothes, stumbling into the shower to rid herself of his touch. But he's still there- imprinted onto her much like before, skin on skin-, regardless of how hard she scrubs and exfoliates and washes. He's like a shadow. A gorgeous, haunting shadow, that won't leave her alone no matter how much she tries. She supposes she'll have to leave it at that. The water turns cold just before it cuts out altogether, and she's suddenly reminded of the icy sheets from earlier, flinching as her heart tugs forcefully. Then, before she leaves for work and wonders how on earth she'll get through this day, she has a shot or three of vodka, trying to ignore the fact that she can still feel him right by her side, because it's easier that way.<p>

Or so she tells herself.

**000000**

She sits at her desk nervously, chewing her fingers and only half paying attention to the world around her. She thinks McGee has enquired as to her wellbeing once or twice, and she thinks she nodded in the affirmative, but she can't be sure.  
>Tony hasn't turned up yet, and she's extremely worried. Not for the sake of the two of them, though that is something she thinks will have to be addressed, but for his sake and his alone. If she's made him... refuse to come in to work, or drown his sorrows, or quit his job- though maybe it's slightly wishful thinking that he really cared enough about her to do something so drastic, and she does hope to hell it's not such a reason-, she'll never be able to forgive herself. And right now, swamped in guilt from sleeping with him <em>and<em> leaving him, she's got a lot of never-forgiving on her shoulders. She really doesn't need any more.

Gibbs strolls in, coffee in hand this time as opposed to sitting on his desk, and is about to sit down at his desk when he stops abruptly. Sending glares in the direction of the two empty spaces- huh, Emily hasn't turned up either; Ziva didn't notice- he opens his mouth to say something, but stops yet again. Now being more tuned-in to what's happening this morning, and not completely focused on Tony and his absence, Ziva leans forward in her chair and looks at Gibbs.  
>The man is studying a folder on his desk, brow furrowed and eyes squinting in either surprise or lack-of-vision. She can't tell what it is, only that there is a lengthy write-up on three pieces of paper, with a bold title at the top and quite a few capital letters. Shrugging internally, she leans back, spinning slightly on her seat, and takes a sip of her tea, zoning out once more.<p>

"...DiNozzo?" Gibbs says, and she visibly snaps out of it, almost spilling her tea. The agent is staring at her confusedly, eyebrow quirked in question.

"Mm? Sorry, Gibbs?"  
>"I said, <em>Where is DiNozzo<em>?"

"I... do not know. Sorry."

Gibbs walks toward her now, squatting down to meet her eyeline with a knowing look.  
>"Well, then. Do you happen to know why the hell Finch quit?"<p>

Ziva cocks her head slightly before realizing that Finch is Emily. _Emily quit? Crap.  
><em>"I do not know that either... Gibbs." her voice is hesitant, because she thinks she may know but she can't be sure for definite. Gibbs shakes his head in disbelief, a smirk on his lips, and stands to his full height again.

"Rule number 12." he announces to the team-of-two, then sinks into his chair, pressing a few buttons on his keyboard as if he knows what they actually do.

Ziva knows of Rule Number 12. It is the rule she had heard of- not dating a co-worker, or something along those lines. However, she's not sure if her temporary boss is implying that Emily had been dating a co-worker, or that someone else had. She assumes it's the latter- in her short time on Gibbs' team, she has learnt that she has an odd ability to know everything. Strangely, it unnerves her.

.  
>.<p>

When Tony trudges in, looking rather under-the-weather and most definitely avoiding her gaze, Gibbs yells at him, and she feels so very sorry. Sorry for her actions, sorry for making him late- she _thinks_ she's the reason he's late-, sorry for everything she's ever done wrong. He looks like a living hell, he really does. His eyes aren't surrounded by bags and aren't red or watery, which doesn't surprise her because he really was sleeping heavily last night, but instead hold a steely quality that she only catches when he turns his head. His hair is messy, but not simply sticking up- merely swept in a sideways angle, as if he's been running his hand through it over and over again. His clothes are crisp as per usual, but he isn't wearing a tie and his collar flaps open, revealing the very top of his chest. She closes her eyes tight before more memories flood her senses, because she fell asleep on that chest last night.

She hears someone call her name, and peels her eyes open once more, turning alert. Gibbs hadn't caught her, luckily, only McGee, and she sends a nod in the latter's direction to assure him she's fine. The eldest agent repeats his words again, and Ziva tries not to groan.

"I said, David, there's a free desk. Move there. Now."  
>How very direct; how very Gibbs.<p>

Gathering her things, she shuffles across the office and sits at Emily's old desk, staring intently at a blotch on the surface. She can't do this, not at this moment. She can't sit and try to work when she knows who is right in front of her, the whole time.  
>When did Tony DiNozzo start being involved in her every move?<p>

But when she comes to think about it, she knows. In an airport, in a hard, red chair, a lifetime ago.  
>Despite all that's happened, she thinks it may have been the best time of her life.<p>

**000000**

A phone rings minutes later- Gibbs' phone. They all look up as a reflex, but soon go back to what they were doing before. Well, most of them do. Not Tony.  
>No, he just shifts his gaze and looks at the woman sat at the desk in front of him. She looks remarkably collected, he thinks. Maybe it's commonplace for her- leaving in the morning without even a 'Goodbye'. But then, he realizes, that's what he has done for the majority of his life, bar Baltimore and Wendy and let's not even go there. All the times he left girl's apartments, or he made them leave his, he never even thought...<br>It hurts when you're on the other end of it, right?

He looks down again, but feels eyes on him not too soon after. She's looking at him. He really wishes she weren't, it's like rubbing salt into a wound. And he _still_ can't get her taste off his tongue, and he _still_ can't erase the memories that continually lie right before his eyes. God, it really hurts.  
>When it no longer feels like someone is drilling holes into his skull, he chances a look up. Maybe it's just his imagination, but when she reaches up and surreptitiously brushes something away by her eye, it looks remarkably like she's crying.<br>Maybe it hurts on both ends, too.

* * *

><p><strong>Better? Worse? Richer? Poorer? Sorry, Tiva's wedding discussion is stuck in my head right now.<br>-Kiera. x**


	8. VIII: You

**Hello again all. (: Another update here, and I can assure you it's much less angsty than the last one. I've also cleared things up regarding the Emily-situation, and also, obviously, Tiva. I hope you'll like this one; it was nice to write some vaguely fluffy stuff. Let me know what you think, you lovelies.**

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you love the name 'Francis' because it has 'NCIS' in it.**

**Listening to: Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects**

* * *

><p>The piece of paper lies on his desk when he returns from a trip to the break room, and his thoughts immediately drift to Ziva, who is staring at her computer just like she was fifteen minutes earlier.<br>_Maybe it's a note_.  
>All dreams are dismissed, however, when he flips open the sheet and finds a letter of resignation printed before his eyes. He skims over the words hurriedly, praying it isn't from Ziva- though he's not entirely sure why it would be on his desk-, and doesn't feel a single bit guilty at the joy that fills him upon seeing the signature 'Emily Finch' stamped out at the bottom of the page.<p>

Sitting down slowly, a little confused, he re-reads the document and gulps a little sadly. On top of the words_ diminishing_, _uncooperative_, and plain old _annoying_, he picks up on _replaced_, _unwelcoming_, and one section in particular that, really, makes him sorry.  
>"<em>Upon the placement of a Mossad liaison officer to our team, I discovered that my co-workers could, in fact, be kind to new arrivals and could make them feel welcomed. Despite my every effort to try and fit in still being unsuccessful many months after I arrived, I found Officer David was immediately greeted warmly by the team and settled in easily. Particularly, I found that she interacted very well with my partner, Agent DiNozzo, and seemed to be doing a much better job of working with him than I ever had done. It is with these observations that I recommend Officer David becomes Agent DiNozzo's partner upon my leaving.<em>"

He folds the paper up again, slightly speechless, and drops it into his trashcan, sending a look in Gibbs' direction. The older man only nods once before returning his attention to his phone, cradled on his shoulder just as it was minutes earlier.

Picking up a pen, Tony starts cutting down the words in his report to give him something, anything, to do, when he feels eyes resting heavily on him yet again. Glancing up, he sees Ziva staring at him, and he can't say he's surprised. What does catch him unawares, however, is the fact that she doesn't look away, like she has done before. She just quirks her lips up the tiniest bit and tilts her head to the side, and he smiles in return.  
>It's getting better.<p>

.  
>.<p>

The crime scene that day is a messy one. Several victims, mangled together and dumped in a clearing in the woods- the type of massacre that would make anyone look away.  
>Her instructions are simple; take pictures and collect any evidence she finds along the way. Tony's instructions are also simple; crime scene sketches. She's not quite sure why he's following her, though.<p>

She's on the outskirts of the woods when she decides enough is enough. He's shadowed her all the way round the scene, switching from sketch to sketch to suit where she has been at the time. Even when she had gone back to a place she had collected from before, he had simply checked the sketch and gone over a few lines.  
>When she reaches a particularly large tree with some suspicious-looking powder round it, she stops abruptly and waits for him to realize. He doesn't, though, and walks right into the back of her.<p>

The ground is a little damp beneath her- rained-on leaves and waterlogged moss coats the forest floor- but she doesn't focus on that, or the fact that she very nearly landed on that white powder. She concentrates on Tony instead, and the fact that he's lying right on top of her.  
>His weight is a little crushing against her, but she doesn't dare mention it for fear he'll move. One of his arms has somehow ended up behind her shoulders, supporting her head, and the other one is lying on the ground. His head is nestled in the crook of her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he breathes out harshly. Eventually, he looks up, his face just inches from hers, and he smiles warily.<br>"Sorry about that."

She smiles back brightly, trying not to laugh and attract attention to them.  
>"It is okay."<p>

He moves forward and closes the gap before she's even had a chance to blink, and she kisses him back without thought. It may be shallow and quick and very gentle, but it repairs barriers that would have otherwise remained knocked-down, and it tethers them together in unimaginable ways. When he pulls back, he brushes his knuckles against her cheek and stands slowly, helping her up as well.  
>"Movie tonight, my place? I've got chips and dip."<p>

"I would like that, Tony. Is nine-" his lips on hers once more stop her words, but she assumes nine o'clock must be _fine_.

He saunters away afterward with a satisfied grin, throwing a lighthearted "Might wanna bag that powder, David," over his shoulder. She sends him a glare and picks up her camera regardless.

.  
>.<p>

They don't solve the case that night, but Gibbs can clearly see nothing else will happen until Abby's finished with the evidence, and tells them to head home at eight.  
>"You doing anything nice, Ziva?" McGee asks her as the two of them head to the elevator.<p>

"Yes, I think I am McGee," she responds cryptically, smiling at Tony- still sitting at his desk- before pressing the button to close the doors. "I am going to visit a very good friend of mine. And you?"

"Eh, same old, same old. Nothing special, like usual."

"That is too bad, yes?"

The doors open and McGee hums in acknowledgement of her answer before saying a curt goodnight and heading to his car. Ziva does the same, but is barely behind the wheel of her Mini Cooper before her cell phone rings. Smiling at the name on the screen, she flips it open and answers.  
>"I said goodbye to you five minutes ago, Tony. Could you not wait an hour?" her voice is teasing and light, and she really rather loves this… banter.<p>

"So what if I couldn't?" he says, and her stomach flips over and over. "Actually, I forgot to ask you earlier- do you want wine or beer? Just, the drink really affects the movie and the whole effect it has, so-"

"Beer is fine, Tony."

"I'm so glad you said that, we don't have to change the movie now."

She grins, even though he can't see her, and she can hear him breathing on the other end of the call. It's a noise that makes her rather content.

"…Tony." she says softly after a minute or two.

"Yeah?"

"I really need to get home and change."

"Oh, sure."

They say their goodbyes and he hangs up, and even as she drives home she feels just a little bit empty without his presence.

.  
>.<p>

She supposes he must have seen this movie at least twenty times before- he's paying absolutely no attention to it. Whilst she stays focused on the plot, he keeps twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers, or just looks at her face whilst the TV presumably reflects off it. She doesn't find it unnerving, more… flattering. The whole way through it- as posh actors strut around and say odd things, and women fling themselves into the hero's arms desperately, and kisses are exchanged that look so very false-, he focuses entirely on her. And she lets him, not because she's vain or self-centered, but because it seems like he's genuinely intrigued by whatever he can see. She merely watches the scenes play out and tries to keep a blush from staining her cheeks.  
>As the credits roll and he reaches forward to pause the film, she feels the rush of cold air sweep through his apartment and lodge itself between the two of them, and she's rather grateful when he sits back down just a little bit closer to her than before. His knuckles brush against her cheek like they did earlier, in the woods, and she slowly turns her head, eyes softening unknowingly.<p>

There's a heaviness to his gaze that she's never seen before, and a lovely feeling settles itself in the pit of her stomach- twisting and confusing, but wonderfully so. When his palm cups her cheek, her eyes flutter shut, and he presses his lips against hers with an intimate kind of tenderness that makes her shudder. He pulls away suddenly, and she wonders if something was wrong. But the heaviness remains in his eyes, and it's she who breaks the silence.

"Tony, I…" she clears her throat and starts again. "Before we do this, aren't there… rules? Things that state that we simply cannot be together?"

"Yeah. Yeah, there are."

"And… you do not care, about these rules?"

He laughs, his throat sounding thick and laden with something that isn't tears but might be rather close, shrugging slightly and shaking his head. "No. No, Ziva, I really don't."

She smiles, because that's enough, but more words escape before she can stop them.  
>"Then what do you care about?"<p>

He doesn't even hesitate as he replies "You."


	9. IX: Home

**Heh. I am so, so sorry this is so late. I was going to upload it ages ago, but then I went to Scotland. I was told I'd have internet connection there. I didn't. And this past week I've had really important exams and I've been juggling so much work at the moment, I had no time to put this up. I had it all written, time just slipped away. So if anyone's still here, I'm sorry. The final chapter- next chapter- will be uploaded much quicker. I promise.  
><strong>**Anyways, here's the next chapter. Again I've cleared stuff up, and included more Tiva, which we all like. Or at least we all should like, if we're reading this. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you go to your Aunt's apartment and spend six hours watching NCIS on a fifty-inch HD TV. (let me tell you, Michael Weatherly looked stunning in high-definition)**

**Listening to: Vienna by Ultravox**

* * *

><p>It starts with an order. "Hold!" is the command, and she willingly obliges as she outstretches her hand. Fingers curl round steel; stop metal-on-metal with an easy weight. The doors drag open once more, and she flexes her hand, greeting the demanding person on the other side with a polite little smile.<br>Tony.

He stands next to her, shooting her an inquisitive smirk that makes her skin bristle pleasantly. She greets him with a quite 'Good morning', even though she already said that to him earlier, and he just grins, brushing fingers over the top of her hand with a raised eyebrow.  
>They don' speak, for there really is no reason to; merely exchange shy little smiles, and she allows him to continue touching her hand.<p>

The elevator inevitably reaches its intended destination, and he takes a subtle step away from her. She idly wonders if this- this thing between the two of them- will forever remain as it currently is; secret, involving stolen glances and little touches in private. Whilst it's okay for now, she knows she cannot just keep pretending like this.

They exit, still in close proximity to each other, and as she walks in front of him she's glad to feel him right behind her, a comforting presence in the rather dreary seeming day that will be ahead of her. Sitting at her desk, she greets McGee warmly, and notes Gibbs' expected absence. She starts on paperwork from their ongoing case, pretending not to notice the frequent looks that Tony sends her.

**000000**

When she gets a call, around lunchtime, she sends gracious thanks to the receptionist and heads to the stairs. Anything to distract her from today, will be a good thing.  
>Gibbs has disappeared yet again, gulping down another coffee, Ziva expects, and despite his being somewhere else for a good hour now, she has been reliably informed- Tony, of course- that her boss does this often. McGee has headed down to Abby's lab at least twice in the past fifteen minutes- at least Ziva <em>thinks<em> that's where he's going. And Tony, well Tony has continued with paperwork. Yet he has also thrown many note-littered paper balls in her direction, and bought three candy bars from the vending machine over the past few hours.  
>Their case really isn't going anywhere.<p>

So, she thinks as she ascends up to the Director's office, any distraction will be a welcome one. Even if the outcome might not be the most pleasant; Tony is certainly shooting her a worried look as if there is something to fret over.

The door is already open, so she walks right in, sending Jenny a pleasant smile as she sits in a chair. The Director is leaning against her desk, looking rather comfortable as she perches on many files and papers, talking to her assistant. Leaning back in her chair, Ziva relaxes somewhat and waits for whatever is coming.

"I guess you heard about Agent Finch, then?" the woman asks once her receptionist has left, closing the door behind her.

Ziva shakes her head and shrugs slightly, confused as to why Jenny would be talking to her about this, of all things. "I have not heard anything, actually, apart from the fact that she quit."

The Director's brow furrows somewhat, but she raises her shoulders in admittance anyway and continues. "Huh. Well, she did. Mentioned a lot about you in her notice, too."

"Me?"

"Yeah, apparently she didn't feel comfortable in the midst of you and DiNozzo's... relationship."

The scrutinizing gaze her boss is suddenly sending her lets Ziva know she has to give nothing away. Jenny's looking for evidence of something between her and Tony- if her glare isn't obvious enough the pause in her speech was. The younger woman responds with cool, smooth words. "I cannot think of any reason why I would make her uncomfortable."

"Never mind that, she advised that when she left, you should become DiNozzo's partner. I decided to make good on her wish, of sorts." she pauses, allowing Ziva to absorb the situation. For some reason, her throat has dried up and her head is spinning slightly. "I've noticed how well you've worked with Gibbs' team, and he has mentioned that he thinks you are a very capable agent."  
>That bit surprises Ziva. Gibbs has never expressed particular like or dislike toward her ever since she temporarily joined his team. "What I'm saying, Ziva, is that I've decided to assign you to one team, and one team only. There's paperwork to fill out and everything, but essentially, you're part of Team Gibbs. And you're DiNozzo's partner."<p>

"Thank you, Director." Ziva says, beaming brightly with eyes she doesn't know are glowing with happiness. After shaking hands with her boss, she stands to leave and tell the team, or whatever members of the team happen to be in the Squad Room at the time.

"Oh, and Ziva?" Jenny says, just as the younger woman is about to walk out the room. Ziva turns, her eyebrow raised questioningly. "Gibbs might have a rule about dating co-workers, but I thought I should let you know- there's nothing in the agency guidelines about it."

The Director turns to her desk and picks up a file, deliberately meaning Ziva can't see the look on her face. Instead, she leaves her boss' office and takes the stairs two at a time, noting how it's still just Tony sitting at his desk. Her heart is racing slightly and her palms have gone a little clammy.  
>"I am now officially on Team Gibbs. And I am your partner." she tells him.<p>

He just pulls her close and whispers his congratulations in her ear after kissing her on the temple, his breath tickling her skin.

**000000**

Abby is very pleased. She hugs Ziva until neither of them can breathe, and offers her a skull-shaped lollipop that she's produced from nowhere.  
>McGee shakes her hand politely and grins, probably because he won't be the new one anymore.<br>Gibbs- who has suddenly reappeared from somewhere- sends her a smile that crinkles the sides of his eyes, and hits her on the back of the head. Everyone laughs, for some reason.

**000000**

When she gets home that evening, she's only been sat on her couch for five minutes before Tony turns up, pizza and DVD in hand, claiming it to be her celebratory meal-and-movie. She doesn't care what he calls it, he's here and that's all that matters.

He laces his fingers through hers as they watch the film- it's weird, involving puppets and David Bowie, and she has no idea what it has to do with her joining the team, but she enjoys it all the same- and kisses her tenderly on more than one occasion. When they talk as the credits roll, her hands still greasy from pizza and her pants now stained from a rogue piece of Tony's chicken, his eyes are shining with slight wonderment and a permanent- genuine- smile is painted on his lips. So much so, that when she kisses him again, her hand going to his neck and pulling him even closer, she can genuinely feel the grin on his lips. Then, as they pull apart and he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his gaze is so full of blissfulness, and hope, and maybe even _love_ that she shudders slightly.  
>And something inside her flips thrillingly, because she's never felt so at home.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>How is it? Final chapter next! Also, kudos to anyone who knew the film they were watching. I love it. :D<strong>


	10. X: Doomsday

**This is a little later than expected, ha. Long story short, I re-read what I'd written for this chapter before, and I really didn't like it. This final piece is about the fourth attempt. Sorry about that.  
>And it's the final chapter! I hope you guys like it, and my apologies for being such a lousy updater. For those of you who followed this fic's prequel, <strong>_**What if we'd met someplace else?, **_**and want to see the next of the three continuations, I should post that in a few months' time. I think I need a little break from these for a while. Hopefully, though, the updating should be better on that than it has been on this, ha.  
>Enjoy.<strong>

**Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you panic as your NCIS mug stars to fade in colour. D:**

**Listening to: I gave you all, by Mumford and Sons.**

* * *

><p>Her very own laugh still echoes in her ears as the phone begins to ring, Tony's text fading as a number flashes up on the screen; her smile is still imprinted on her lips.<br>It all disappears once the sharp intake of breath and clear 'Ziva' comes through from the other end.

To say she shouts at her father would not be accurate- in fact, her voice is calm in a rehearsed state, practiced and curt without the slightest tremor.  
>It's only at the end that her patience wears thin and she hangs up, Eli David's words still running through her mind.<p>

Her father has no concept of time; time for getting to know people; time to say goodbyes.  
>The airline tickets are in the post, and she has three days.<p>

She is not laughing anymore.

**000000**

The Director's office is her first port of call the next morning. She breezes past Tony without even a 'Good Morning', and can't find it in her to feel guilty when he immediately sends her a concerned glance.

Jenny promises to make some calls, and Ziva is instantly grateful to her ally.  
>It's Gibbs she's more worried about. He's been sending her odd looks the past week, switching from Tony to her to Tony again, as if trying to connect the pieces but somehow not believing what he sees.<p>

It makes her itch, unlike anything she's felt before.

He knows.

**000000**

Abby had told her once about the tradition of Gibbs' basement. If there's something you need to say, or want advice, go to Gibbs. According to her friend, his door's always open.  
>She didn't quite realize Abby had meant that literally, but it certainly makes things easier.<p>

She senses his sharp look up and winces slightly. She's losing her touch.

"You planning to come all the way down here, or just sit on the top step?"

It's a fair enough question, she thinks, and one that she should answer. Instead, though, she just mutters an indifferent response and stays seated, eyes trained to the pacing, sander-wielding man.

" 'Something wrong, Ziva?"

She blinks, because his way of pronouncing her first name is still somewhat foreign, and he says the end with a slight lilt to it.

"No." she tells her fingers, then back-tracks and changes her mind.  
>"Yes."<p>

She hears him drop some metal things that clatter over wood, and her brow furrows even further. Pouring liquid comes next. "Yes, Gibbs, everything is wrong."

Her voice cracks on the last word and an unexpected tear rolls down her cheek.  
>She knows he's about to ascend the stairs and find out what's wrong, but she realizes that's not what she wants, and stands, heading down the staircase anyway.<p>

He hands her a small jar, filled with a rich-colored liquid. She's not quite sure what it is, but it's strong and blissfully burns the back of her throat.  
>Sitting down on a chair of some sort, Gibbs asks what is wrong. She follows his lead and sits opposite him before answering.<p>

"My father... is a very powerful man, as you are no doubt aware. He sent me here- to NCIS- after... something went wrong. I should have been protecting someone, and I got distracted, and he ended up dead.  
>Eli... Well, he decided to send me to a different country; to someone who could look out for me but still ensure I was working as I should. That was Jenny.<p>

"But I always knew, that this could not be permanent. I knew my father could take everything away from me as soon as I started to fit in here. Somehow, though, I forgot, and I felt at home, with your team."

She pauses to make sure he's still following, and takes another long drink.

"Yesterday, my father told me that I had three days to tie up my loose ends, and fly back to Israel.

"I forgot, Gibbs. I let myself relax for one moment, and he realized. This is what happened before, and it's happening again now."

She takes a deep breath to regain her composure.

"Ziva, what do you mean?"  
>He sounds oh so confused, and she gulps, weighing up her options.<br>In the end, she just can't lie.

"I let myself... fall for him, Gibbs. I had fun, and I tried to keep it simple, but he's not simple. He's never simple, I mean..."  
>Another tear rolls down her cheek and she feels Gibbs lay a hand on her shoulder.<br>_When_did she get so soft?

"Who, Ziva?"  
>And they both know who it is, but in order for this to be okay she has to say it.<p>

The tension is thick and the air is still, and she gulps down the remainder of her drink to gain courage.

"Tony."

**000000**

Gibbs had told her to tell Tony, but she couldn't. For one, it would be too hard, and she wouldn't make it through without tearing up, and if he tried to comfort her it'd all be ten times worse. Also, she just can't bear to face him.  
>Him, with the sparkling green eyes and the knowing stare; the kissable lips and the bright wide smile.<p>

It's easier this way, she promises herself.

**000000**

Jenny calls her up on doomsday.  
>Goodbye speeches are already planned; the tickets sit on a box in her apartment, ready to be picked up as soon as she needs them.<p>

Her friend is cradling a phone between her shoulder and chin, scrawling something on a piece of paper as she multi-tasks.  
>"Okay, thank you. Yeah, Shalom to you too."<p>

Ziva's eyes shoot up. Can she dare to hope...?

"I pulled something off, Ziva. You're just too valuable to lose."

Jenny grins as the other woman hugs her tightly, chuckling slightly.

**000000**

"What do I do, Gibbs?"

"Jeez, you kids think I have all the answers. About what, Ziva?"

"Like I said, I am no longer leaving. And I know you have rules, and I would not want to break those. But I... I do not want to ignore Tony, Gibbs. I cannot just forget about him."

"Go to him, Ziva. Tell him what you told me."

"But your rules-"

"Forget about them for now. We can discuss them later. Right now, though, you need to go to DiNozzo and tell him what's happened."

**000000**

The knock is quiet, and she hopes he'll hear it. There are light footfalls over the threshold, and she knows he's looking at her.  
>The door opens.<p>

"What is it, Ziva?" his words are cold and sharp, and she blinks in momentary shock.

"Can we...talk?"

"What about?"

"I am sorry, Tony."

"What for?"  
>She chuckles in disbelief.<p>

"Please... Tony."

Something shifts in his gaze and he steps aside, letting her in.

"Do you... remember what I said about my father?"  
>Tony nods, and she continues.<br>"He found out, that I was... with you, somehow. And I forgot what he was capable of doing.

"Three days ago, I was given an ultimatum- I believe that is the right word.  
>Tony, he said that I had three days to sever all ties to NCIS and return to Mossad."<p>

"Three days, but that's..."  
>He trails off, a look of horror on his face.<p>

And then, before she knows what's happening, he's stepped forward and pressed his lips against hers, desperately and full of need. It's over so quickly.

"What was that for?" she asks breathlessly.

He shrugs sadly, hand placed on her cheek.  
>"I'm not sure if I'll be able to do that again."<p>

She puts a finger to his lips, smiling as he kisses it gently.  
>"But listen, Tony. The Director managed to make my father let me stay. I am staying here."<br>Her breathing is still heavy as he visibly works out what's going on right in front of her.

"Oh thank God." he whispers breathily as he crushes her to him, saying nonsense and some slightly more sensical words as he holds her tight.

She pulls out the airline tickets once he's let her go somewhat, handing them to him. He rips them up there and then, and kisses her deeply straight after.

**000000**

Later, as they lie in bed, clutching as they drift asleep, he tells her he loves her.  
>She says it right back.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Fin.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and followed this. (: Sorry I've been such a dreadful updater.<br>It'd be lovely if you could leave a review.  
>-Kiera<strong>


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